Laughing at the thought that a country’s leadership apparantly believes that blocking the internet will help them solve their problems.  Unless they’re prepared to completely cut the wires that cross their international borders, it’s just a matter of time before someone digs up an old 56K modem and starts dialing long distance to post to their blog.  Or taps into some private or corporate satellite link.  But what does it matter?  Lots of documentation exists of the slaughter at Tiananmen Square, but the collective attention span of the world is short, and people will simply forget.  Maybe the masses would quiet down faster if rather than blocking access the junta offered free internet porn.

But then again, maybe they’ve got the right idea.  Maybe it’s time someone started blocking financial transfers out of Burma.  And airline reservations.  If the junta’s going to flee with their purloined wealth, they should at least have to fly one of their local carriers and have the gold bars count against their checked bag allowance. 

It’s been a long and particularly unproductive day. Still feeling like crap, so I’m blowing off actually going to water polo (the first “sunset” game of UCSD’s season) and trying to capture the experience virtually by looking at photos from sunset games in 2005 and 2006. Hopefully I’ll catch one of the two other sunset matches set for this season.  I’ll rethink the drinkees and rock music after our pizza gets delivered and devoured.

Brain is scrambled.  The combination of allergies, allergy meds, too much hold music on the bank’s voicemail, too much staring at the text the computer thought it saw when it scanned a trust form, and a severe lack of chlorine were just too much.  I really do feel like those old ‘this is your brain on drugs’ ads, down to the sizzling noise caused by the Afrin buzz.  Of course, despite all this, plans have been made to escape the four walls tonight.  Sunset water polo, drinkees at a ghetto white-trash rock-n-roll bar and a show of support for a small band I’d never heard of until two days ago.  Hopefully getting out will clear out some of the cobwebs so I can get some work done tomorrow. 

We’ve killed a lot of the tumors. Now we’re waiting to see what the cancer is going to do. Where it’s going to strike next. It’s not an immediate threat right now. If there’s a growth spurt, or a lot of new tumors show up suddenly, then we’ll react. We’ll fire back. But in the meantime, we wait.

Listening to NPR this morning I caught one of Leroy Sievers’ reports on his battle with cancer.  Loved the analogy.   

Next week it will have been four years since my own little carcinoma got nuked, along with the rest of my innards.  I hope and pray it’s dead, but the reality is that I don’t know.  To keep with Sievers’ analogy, I want to go kick the body and make certain, but that’s not an option.  Actually I really want to dismember the beast, immerse the parts in acid, cremate whatever elements remain after that and then shoot the ashes into a black hole.  Just to make sure, yaknow?  But those aren’t options either.  I settle for going back to BorgHealth every six months and letting them kick the body, so to speak.  Yep, not moving, PSA normal, go home and don’t think about it.  Yeah, right.  Never take your eyes off the thing.

*expression of sorrow*

Tomorrow Autumn will be here and Summer 2007, the time of the Great Slackathalon of 2007 will pass into history.  The various weather forecasters keep saying a big storm will hit tonight, though right now it’s warm and sunny.  There’s typing to be done, but it can wait a bit longer.  So I spent some time sitting on the pier just watching things happen.  It felt good.

The first forensic test results were thrown out for reliability reasons.  The mishandling of the second test was unreliable enough that the arbitrators warned the lab that continued errors would result in dismissed claims, but the two of the three arbitrators thought these results were valid enough to destroy this one career.  On that basis the accused was found guilty, but even if he hadn’t been he still would have been down the two million dollars he spent on his defense.  There are still appeals to be had, but what a crock. 

As I read the reporting (and I haven’t seen the ruling yet – not sure if it will even be public), sloppy practices can be allowed to ruin a few careers, but if it goes on long enough that it really stinks, and might make the process look tainted, then the arbitrators might take some action to protect their own reputations. 

I hope Floyd Landis does appeal and leaves them staring at the backside of his yellow jersey, and that maybe someone will see finally a reason to fix this ridiculous system.

Literally.  “Severe Weather Alerts” abound.  Not that the wind or rain will actually hurt me, but it is time to stay inside in case one of the natives gawking at Mother Nature’s show decides to drive into Nissantruck instead of the traditional utility pole.  Sometimes playing things safe is worthwhile.

An emotional Mayor Jerry Sanders revealed Wednesday that his daughter is gay as he signed a legal brief asking the state’s high court to overturn a prohibition on same-sex marriage, which he had vowed not to do.The San Diego City Council voted 5-3 Tuesday to join Los Angeles, Long Beach, San Jose and Oakland in the amicus brief, or so-called “friend-of-the-court” resolution in support of gay marriages.[from 10News]

Interesting how fast things can change.

“I acknowledge that not all members of our community will agree, or perhaps understand my decision today,” Sanders said. “All I can offer them is I am trying to do what is right.”

Arrgh.  Emoticons have been like a barnacle on our hulls for nar’on twenty five years.  And today be International Talk Like A Pirate Day.  Behold the booty that Al Gore’s invention has brought our society and smartly have a round or two of grog to celebrate or lament.  Pirate’s choice.